Every Storm Runs Out of Rain
by MaturePopcorn
Summary: Gordie begins having strange thoughts and feelings for his best friend, and can't even express the fundamental basics of his life to anyone. 1959 Oregon isn't the most accepting place for someone like him...
1. Chapter 1

**"Every Storm Runs Out of Rain"**

_By MaturePopcorn_

**Description: **Gordie begins having strange thoughts and feelings for his best friend, and can't even express the fundamental basics of his life to anyone. 1959 Oregon isn't the most accepting place for someone like him...

**WARNING: M for alcohol/drug use, mild sexual themes in future chapters, violence, and explicit homophobia.**

**_Author's note:_** I wrote 5 chapters of this in a notebook and now I have the ungodly task of transferring it to a computer. Love that.

Much love,

~Hannah~

Chapter 001

The mid-July sun was scorching as it beamed down onto the town of Castle Rock, and a mild morning quickly became a swelteringly hot afternoon. Gordie sighed as he stepped outside; he was almost certain it had never been _this_ hot before.

He made his way over to his treehouse where he and his best friend Chris often hung out. Their close friends Teddy and Vern came over occasionally, though their hangouts were becoming more and more sporadic as the years went by. They hardly ever came over anymore. Gordie almost knew for a fact the treehouse would be empty on a day as hot as today, which was good. All he wanted was a place to write, undisturbed, away from his parents.

Gordie climbed the ladder and was about to open the trapdoor when he heard rustling from inside. He groaned; he'd figured the heat would be enough of a deterrent, but it appeared he was wrong.

"Alright, who's here?" Gordie called as he swung open the door.

A voice came through to him, "Just me."

"Oh. Hey, Chris."

Gordie's tensions melted away almost instantly. When he and Chris hung out, just the two of them, was when he felt happiest. Truthfully, he wasn't even upset that he probably wouldn't write today. As long as Chris was here, he was content.

Jokingly, Gordie teased, "So what, you think you can come here whenever you want like you own the place?"

Chris smirked, shooting back, "Hey, I'm here often enough I may as well own the place. But if you want me to leave…" he trailed off, mock exaggerating a hurt face.

Gordie laughed. "Nah, I was just gonna write some, you can stay if you want."

Chris shook his head. "No, no. I know how passionate you are about writing, but it's summer and it's hot. Take a break for once; we'll head down to the river."

Gordie set down his notebook and pen, all thoughts of writing dashed from his head. "Yeah, that does sound nice," he responded. Smiling at Chris, he opened the trapdoor once more and made his way out. "Let me just grab my bathing suit."

Chris threw his hand up dismissively as he stepped foot on the ground. "You don't need a bathing suit for the river. Come on, I'm dying in this heat."

Gordie half rolled his eyes and mock sighed playfully. "Alright, alright… I'm coming."

The two boys quickly made their way down to the river, about a mile away, and chatted aimlessly about different things. Football, television, the weather… They found ways to laugh about nearly everything.

As they approached the riverbank, the conversation turned to girls. Chris inquired of his friend, "So, d'ya have a crush on any of the girls at the high school?"

Gordie blushed softly, nearly invisible on his lightly sunburned face. He hated being asked this question; he had just turned 14 and was about to start high school in two months. Girls seemed to be all anyone talked about anymore. He finally answered, "Ah, jeez Chris, I don't know; I hardly know any of 'em."

"Yeah, but who d'ya think is attractive at least?"

Gordie blinked. Out of the girls in their grade, and the few he had seen from the high school, he could honestly say none of them were all too appealing to him. How had he not noticed that before?

_"Is there something wrong with me?" _he thought anxiously. _"Surely I should like at least _one _girl by now…"_

"Uh, not really," Gordie answered shortly. He quickly lied, adding, "Uh, maybe that Wendy chick from our grade."

Chris rolled his eyes as he took off his shirt. "Out of your league, buddy."

Gordie frowned. "Hey…" he started before trailing off as Chris took off his pants. For some reason, he couldn't stop staring. He'd seen his best friend like this before, plenty of times, whenever they swam. For some reason, however, Gordie couldn't avert his gaze from Chris' body.

Feeling uncomfortable, Gordie stuttered, "Uh… Gotta pee first." He disappeared behind a tree a ways away and began undressing. He noticed with a start that his underwear had a bulge in it.

_"Shit."_

Gordie began to panic; he couldn't let Chris see him like this. He pushed aside the nagging thought of _why _he had gotten hard and focused instead on how to get rid of it.  
_"The river!" _Gordie thought as he glanced around the tree. Chris was facing away from him, and he could easily jump in and let the cold water shock him soft. _"Perfect."_

Gordie took a deep breath. Breaking into a run, he yelled, "Cannonball!" and plunged into the cold rushing water.

As he came up for air, he heard Chris yelling, "-fair, you just wanted to get in first!" Chris jumped in as well, and the two splashed about for a minute. Gordie thanked God the cold water had worked; so why had he gotten hard in the first place?

The two boys played and swam in the water for a bit; then, growing tired, decided to rest in a shallow bank and talk. They talked about all things again, until eventually the conversation turned back to girls.

"Yeah, I really like this one freshman chick, Cheryl… Ugh, the tits on her…"

"Jeez, Chris, can't we talk about something else?"

Chris snorted and laughed playfully, teasing Gordie, "What, your balls never drop or something?"

Gordie blushed lightly again and frowned. "It's not that, I just wanna talk about other stuff."

"Okay, okay," Chris relented. "Like what?"

Gordie shifted uncomfortably. "Actually, I have a question. It's embarrassing but I can't really ask anyone else."

"Shoot."

"Well," Gordie began, unsure of how to phrase his words. "Do you ever get… Hard, down there, for no reason? Like, no reason whatsoever?"

Chris burst out laughing, bending forward until his forehead touched the water. Indigent, Gordie asked, "What's so funny, anyway?"

Chris answered, still chuckling, "You don't wanna talk about girls, but you wanna talk about that?" He paused, pretending to wipe a tear from his face. "It's just funny is all."

"It's not funny," Gordie protested. He frowned, hoping the sun would block out his flushed cheeks. "It's just, I don't really have anyone else to ask. Vern and Teddy are off the table for sure, my dad is… Well, my dad… And Denny is…" Gordie trailed off. It'd been years since Denny had died in a jeep accident, but he still never liked to say the word "dead".

Chris sighed. "Yeah, I get it. I didn't really have many good options myself in that department, so I just kinda figured it out on my own. It's normal; happens to Teddy too. It's just annoying, nothing wrong."

For some unknown reason, a pang of emotion shot through Gordie at the mention of Teddy. Was that… Jealousy? That wouldn't make much sense…

"Anyway," Chris inquired, "how come you never wanna talk about girls with me? We're best friends, it's what we're supposed to do."

"Yeah, but… I don't really like any girls right now."

"What about that Wendy chick?"

"Nah, I only said that so you'd get off my back about it," Gordie confessed sheepishly, splashing some water around. "Truth is I don't really like anyone, not like that."

Chris thought for a moment. "Could be you haven't found your type yet."

Gordie shrugged half-heartedly. "Could be."

Chris inched closer to Gordie. "Well, let's try to 'build' you the perfect girl then. So we know what you like. Are you thinking tall or short?"

Gordie hesitated. He'd never really given much thought to any of this, so he thought carefully before answering. "Maybe… Taller," he answered finally.

Chris nodded, deep in concentration. "Alright, hair: color, style…?"

"Eh, color doesn't really matter, but maybe shorter hair."

Chris paused. "Gordie, are you a tits guy or an ass guy?"

Gordie frowned. "I guess… Ass, maybe? I dunno, I don't really think about that kinda stuff."

Chris bluntly stated, "Gordie, the girl you're describing sounds an awful lot like a guy."

Gordie stammered back, "W-what? No, she doesn't!" He widened his eyes as Chris raised his eyebrows. "I mean, as long as it's a girl, it's a girl, right? Maybe I like tomboys." Gordie nodded, internally sighing in relief. _"Yeah, tomboys,"_ he thought, _"that's the answer."_

Chris thought deeply for a few moments, then responded, "Alright, I could see that. I think my dad still has some playboys in a hiding spot I know about; I'll bring 'em to the treehouse next time."

Gordie blurted out without thinking, "Why don't you get 'em now and spend the night tonight in the treehouse?" Instantly he regretted his words; usually he loved when Chris spent the night, but something here felt… Off.

To his relief, Chris shook his head. "Nah, I gotta be home tonight. Saturday, okay?"

Gordie nodded in agreement. Today was Tuesday; maybe Chris would forget in those four days.

They chatted aimlessly about more nonsense for a while; then, as the sun was just beginning to dip below the distant hills, they allowed themselves to airdry a bit before redressing and heading home. They parted ways at the treehouse with a short, "Bye," and Gordie made his way up to his house, deep in thought.

As he lay in bed that night, knowing Chris was fast asleep, Gordie tossed and turned for hours with a single question occasionally surfacing:

_"Is there something wrong with me?"_

* * *

Saturday came, and much to Gordie's dismay Chris remembered to bring the Playboys over for their sleepover. As he climbed the ladder, arms full, Chris shouted up, "Gordie, it's me, open up!"

Gordie opened the door and replied, "What, you couldn't open it yourself?"

Chris snickered as he climbed in and dumped everything onto the already cluttered floor. "Nah, my arms were full of naked chicks." Gordie silently groaned; he instinctively felt this wouldn't turn out well.

Chris continued, "Come on, let's look through 'em; I remember seeing a couple short haired doe's in one of these."

Gordie quickly shot back, "Wait, why don't we play poker some first? We can eat and smoke, then we'll look at 'em."

Chris furrowed his brow. "What? Why?" Gordie gulped, unsure of how to answer. Chris went on, "It was a lot of work to even get these; my old man moved 'em again, so I spent an hour looking, and if he notices they're gone I'll get my ass beat. Come on," he reiterated, "let's flip through a couple."

Gordie sighed in defeat. "Okay…" he relented as Chris pulled out a copy from the stack.

"Ah, December 1957. Nice," Chris commented as he began flipping through the pages. He grinned as he got to the very thing he was looking for. Flipping the magazine around, he snickered, "Alright, Gordie, this one do anything for 'ya?"

Gordie felt like lying, but he couldn't bring himself to it. Chris was his best friend, someone he trusted with the world, and he knew he could be honest. "Not really… he answered truthfully.

Chris frowned. He turned the magazine back to him and flipped some more pages. Turning it back around, he asked, "How about now?"

Gordie studied the woman on the page; breasts, stomach, everything lower… Nothing. He shook his head.

Chris growled softly, "There's gotta be something in this stupid magazine that'll get you going." He flipped through some more and laughed when he reached a certain page. Flipping the Playboy once more, he asked, still chuckling, "Hey Gordie, how about this one?"

On the page wasn't a woman at all; it was an advertisement for men's underwear. A tall, broad shouldered man stood at the edge of a boat in nothing but his briefs; in an instant, a jolt went through Gordie. His cheeks grew flush with color as he stuttered, "O-of course not!"

Chris' face went blank for a moment as he slowly put the magazine down. "Hey Gordie, you got a little… Dilemma, down there."

Gordie glanced down and noticed a bulge had formed in his pants. How was he going to explain this? More than that, how could he explain it to himself? His world suddenly felt jarringly like a nightmare.

"I, uh…"

"Gordie, do you like guys?"

Panicking, Gordie's eyes widened as he whispered without thinking, "I don't know?"

Chris stood suddenly, dropping the Playboy haphazardly. "Wait, wait, wait… So you're saying you _might_?"

Gordie's voice raised in fear. "I-I don't know!" He breathed sharply, then added quickly, "I've never thought about it before!"

"Gordie, if you're a fag, we can't hang out anymore," Chris solemnly stated. "You know that, right?"

Gordie nearly felt like crying. "Wait, I'm not a fag. I just… I don't know, okay? Everything is so confusing…"

Chris narrowed his eyes. Glancing around, he bent down and began collecting his things. Gordie watched helplessly as Chris shot back coolly, "Well, while you figure it out, I'm going home. I'll see you later, Gordie." He paused, adding, "Maybe."

Gordie sat in stunned silence as Chris left the treehouse and began walking home. Along with the sounds of the wind and Chris' fading footsteps, Gordie could hear the blood rushing through his head and his own heart pounding.  
_Was he gay?_


	2. Chapter 2

**"Every Storm Runs Out of Rain"**

_By MaturePopcorn_

**Description: **Gordie begins having strange thoughts and feelings for his best friend, and can't even express the fundamental basics of his life to anyone. 1959 Oregon isn't the most accepting place for someone like him...

**WARNING: M for alcohol/drug use, mild sexual themes in future chapters, violence, and explicit homophobia.**

**_Author's note:_** Caffeine is helping me transfer this from paper to digital, but it's still slow going as the chapters get longer…

Much love,

~Hannah~

Chapter 002

"Gordie, time for dinner!"

Gordie lay motionless on his bed, staring at the ceiling blankly. For the last three days, he had been fairly vacant from his social and family life. Trying to figure out whether he liked guys or not was harder than he initially thought, and he wanted desperately for Chris to be there with him to help him through his struggles. Gordie knew that if he _was _gay, he'd probably never see his best friend again.

Another call came, closer to his room this time. "Gordie! Don't make me come up there again." His mother sounded stern; her patience had worn thin after days of her son not leaving his room.

Gordie sighed and mustered all of his energy to pull himself off his bed and begin the trek downstairs. He slowly made his way down and through the house before finally shuffling into the dining room.

Dinner was meatloaf and mashed potatoes, one of Gordie's favorites. He had hardly eaten these last few days; perhaps this was his mother's way of coaxing him back to a sense of normalcy. Unfortunately, however, it was to no avail. Gordie sat at his seat and stared blankly at his plate. He picked up his fork, only to set it right back down.

His father sighed angrily and was about to speak when he was cut off by Gordie's mother. "Gordie," she began sympathetically, "you've hardly eaten or left your room these last few days. I'm concerned…"

His father interjected, "You've been hanging around that Chambers kid again, haven't you?"

Gordie felt a pang in his heart as he shook his head. He took a bite of meatloaf, as if to show he was really okay, and his mother flashed him a knowing glance. Sternly to her husband, she responded, "Now, you know that's his best friend." She paused, then inquiring of Gordie, "Why haven't you seen him recently?"

Gordie didn't know how to respond to that at all, but thankfully he didn't have to. His father shot back at his mother, "He's a bad influence, dammnit!"

Flustered, Gordie's mother merely responded, "Language, at the dinner table!" She quickly added, "And besides-" but was cut off once more.

Gordie's parents began arguing over whether Chris was a bad influence or not. This was not a new occurrence for them; after the initial shock of Denny's passing, the once relatively calm family had dissolved into petty arguments nearly every night. Gordie took this opportunity to slip away from his seat, simply mumbling, "I'm gonna go to bed now." He was not noticed as he made his way back up the stairs and into his room.

Gordie lay on his bed once more, lost in thought. He had concluded that, through several hours of deep reflection, that perhaps he _did _like guys… But that didn't mean he would never see his best friend again. He decided he'd lie and continue the façade of liking women; he needed Chris in his life.

He went to bed that night feeling only marginally better. For some reason, the thought of lying to Chris, even if to keep him in his life, seemed wrong. More than that, it seemed dauntingly exhausting. Swirling thoughts went around in his head over and over; he had no idea what it even meant to be gay. He decided to sleep; he'd talk to Chris tomorrow, and figure this all out as he went.

As Gordie was just dozing off about an hour later, he heard a tapping noise coming from his window. Disoriented with sleep, he groaned and rubbed his eyes hazily as the tapping continued. He realized someone must be throwing pebbles. Gordie slowly got out of bed and walked over to his window, opening it, and weakly called out, "Hello?"

A hushed voice came from below. "Hey, Gordie! Come down to the treehouse, I gotta talk to ya!"

Gordie blinked, rubbing the bleariness from his eyes. "Chris?"

"Come on," Chris said, already heading towards the treehouse. "It couldn't wait; hurry up!"

Realizing that perhaps this was Chris' way of returning things back to normal, Gordie quickly dressed himself and quietly rushed downstairs with a near giddy sense of excitement. Whatever Chris wanted to talk about, Gordie's decision to lie was strengthened by this turn of events.

He could feel his heart hammering in his chest as she shut the back door behind him. The grandfather clock in their hallway read 1:02; he'd be dead if he were caught out this late. Rushing through the cool Oregon summer night to the treehouse, Gordie breathlessly climbed the ladder and opened the trapdoor.

Inside, illuminated by a flashlight, was Chris with one arm behind him. Gordie climbed in tentatively and closed the door, whispering, "What's going on?"

Chris grinned and responded quickly, though there was something off about his voice Gordie couldn't quite pinpoint. "I wanted to share something with ya," he began, "But first… Ah jeez, how do I say this… I'm sorry for being such an ass the other day. Truth is, I've been thinking, and I don't really care if you're a fag or not. We're friends no matter what."

Gordie was honestly shocked; he hadn't'd expected such openness from his friend. All tensions were lifted as he breathed a deep sigh of relief. "Oh, Chris, thank God; I've been so torn up over this, and-"

Chris raised his free hand, cutting Gordie short. "I figured you were probably gonna say you were a fag in the end. I was just thinking that I didn't wanna lose my best friend."

Gordie smiled sheepishly. "Yeah, I think I might be a fag after all… But I don't even really know what that means."

Chris shrugged, responding, "I don't really know either, but you'll figure it out, I'm sure. It's probably best that no one else knows this though."

Gordie nodded his head fervently in agreement. "No, no one else can know."

Chris nodded as well, and after a moment of silence had passed said, "Well that's that. Now, for what I wanted to tell you…" He grinned, adding, "Or rather, show you."

Gordie's face grew puzzled, then lit up in understanding as Chris produced a sizeable bottle of cheap whiskey from behind his back. It was about 2/3 full. Gordie stared at it somewhat blankly; he had never drank before, and to his knowledge neither had Chris. Dumbly, he asked, "What's that for?"

Chris snorted as he popped the lid off. "For us to drink, ya dope, what else?" He extended it out to Gordie, adding, "Here, I drank some on the way here. You go first."

Gordie took the bottle and held it tentatively. What would this even do to him? Things were suddenly moving so fast, after days on nonaction… Was he really about to drink for the first time? He sniffed the brown liquid. It smelled strong, but in his opinion not terrible. Placing the bottle to his lips, he tilted it back and allowed a small amount of whiskey to touch his lips, then enter his mouth.

He nearly spat it out. It was bitter and strong, and practically burned. Forcing himself to swallow, he gasped and handed the bottle back to Chris. His best friend laughed, "Aw, c'mon Gordie, that's all you're gonna drink? One measly mouthful?"

Gordie shook his head in disgust. "That's horrible, Chris. Why would anyone drink that stuff?"

"The way it makes you feel," Chris responded, taking a swig from the bottle. "It ain't about the taste; if it was, it'd taste better." To Gordie, Chris seemed a little off. Too loose in his speech and not as sharp as he usually was. Chris extended the bottle back to Gordie. "You want some more?"

Gordie shook his head, and Chris simply shrugged, taking another swig. Nonchalantly, Gordie asked, "You catch the game last night?"

As the two boys chatted aimlessly, Gordie felt as though all were right with the world. Their conversation flowed naturally the way it always did, and he felt completely at ease in the presence of his best friend once more.

Chris, however, was growing drunker by the minute. He seemed completely oblivious to how bizarrely he was behaving; wild hand gestures, slurred speech and swaying movements as he laughed wildly at every little thing. Gordie finally commented, "That booze sure is doing a lot to ya. I don't feel anything."

Chris shook his head, smiling as he extended the bottle to Gordie once more; the liquid inside sloshed violently. "Y'just haven't had enough yet." He grinned, adding, "C'mon, have some more. It don't taste good, but it's lots of fun."

Gordie hesitated, eyeing the bottle cautiously. "I don't know, Chris… I've never been drunk before, and my parents-"

"Ah, c'mon," Chris slurred, leaning forward and placing the bottle next to Gordie. "Forget about all that, have some fun!"

Gordie reached out and took the bottle. Bracing himself, he took as big a swig as he could manage and quickly swallowed it. His mouth feeling hot, he gasped again and breathed deeply; the aftertaste was nearly worse than the taste.

Chris lit a cigarette, filling the treehouse with thick, white smoke. Gordie felt a little dizzy and, laying down, inquired of Chris, "Where'd you get all this, anyway?"

Chris snorted. "Was easy. I just went down to the shop and told them it was for my old man; cashier didn't recognize me and sold it straight off."

Closing his eyes, Gordie said, "Well, I still don't feel anything."

"You will. Y'want a smoke?"

"Sure."

Gordie sat up suddenly, and the treehouse tilted slightly. Everything in his head turned foggy, yet the world around him remained crystal clear. He felt even more relaxed than before, and now he felt nice and warm despite the cool breeze coming in through the windows. He looked at Chris, cheeks flush with color, and mumbled, "Hey, Chris, I think I'm feeling something…"

Chris laughed, swaying wildly side to side. "It's fun, isn't it?"

Gordie grinned, grabbing Chris' pack of cigarettes. "Yeah, it is." Gordie struck a match and lit his smoke, taking a drag. It felt smoother than usual, airier. "Are these a different brand?" he asked innocently.

Chris shook his head, "Nah, they just taste different when ya drink."

Gordie nodded and took another disgusting but hearty swig of the bottle. Already, he could tell that tonight was going to get a lot better. Something about this just felt right.

The pair talked into the night about everything and anything, growing more rambunctious as the night wore on. By the time the bottle was nearly empty, it was clear Chris (who was laying on his back at the moment) had drank a lot more. Gordie still felt fairly drunk, though, and he sighed in contentedness; he had his life back.

Chris then changed the subject back to girls, much to Gordie's dismay. He fell silent as Chris rambled drunkenly about the different girls he liked, and how high school would be different for him, and…

"Oh, sorry Gordie," Chris slurred, "I forgot you were a fag, and this is probably really boring to you, huh?" There was no malice in his words. It was simply all he knew how to say, as kindly as he could. Gordie shrugged; he felt like he _should_ be hurt, but he didn't really care about all that anymore. He knew Chris meant well. Secretly, though, he felt a pang of jealousy whenever Chris mentioned a girl. He would never share these feelings with his best friend, and he wasn't even sure where it was coming from in the first place. Gordie figured it was probably an attention thing… What else could it be?

Passingly, Gordie remarked, "Make sure you remember me when you get a girlfriend and all."

Chris nodded, still on the floor with his eyes closed. "Of course, Gordo. You know we'll always be friends." Gordie smiled softly in response, and Chris slowly sat up, groaning softly as he did so. He grabbed the bottle and held it out, asking, "Hey, you wanna finish this?" Gordie shook his head fluidly, and Chris shrugged. Putting the bottle to his lips, he chugged the rest of the liquid, shuddering as he swallowed. He groaned again, louder this time.

Alarmed, Gordie started to stand up shakily. "You okay, Chris?"

Chris shook his head softly and grimaced. Instinctively, Gordie made his way over to his best friend and grabbed his shoulders, lifting him up. He half-carried Chris over to the nearest window where he stuck his head out and suddenly threw up violently.

As Chris began to moan, Gordie started rubbing his back, whispering, "Hey, you're okay."

Chris slumped backwards into Gordie's arms. "Oh, Gordie… I think I drank too much…"

Chuckling, Gordie responded, "Yeah, probably." He sighed, leaning his head back to stare at the ceiling of the treehouse. "You're gonna be okay, though."

Chris smiled weakly. "Thanks, Gordie," he whispered. "I really love you, y'know."

Gordie blinked. "Oh, uh…"

"Y'know, you're like my best friend ever. I fuckin' love you."

Gordie nodded in understanding and whispered back, "I love you too, Chris." Platonic love. It made sense; he felt the same way about Chris after all. So why did his heart feel so heavy? "Why don't you get some sleep? You're pretty drunk."

Chris slowly closed his eyes and rolled out of Gordie's arms, onto the treehouse floor. He mumbled, "I'm just gonna sleep here, 'K?"

Gordie went down to the floor himself, propping himself up on an elbow so he could lay on his side and watch over his best friend. "Okay, Chris," he answered, leaning over and turning off the flashlight. As the treehouse went dark, Chris began to snore softly, and Gordie whispered to nobody, "Goodnight."

* * *

Several weeks came and went without much event, and by early September both Chris and Gordie were preparing for the school season. Their high school careers started tomorrow, and they wanted to celebrate with another night of drinking. They hadn't'd drank since that night they made up, so they put extra effort into planning the event. It would be an amazing kick-off into high school. Cards, smokes, Playboys for Chris, and of course, a large botte of Jack Daniels. It'd been difficult to acquire, but worth it.

As the sun began to set beyond the Oregonian mountains in the distance, Gordie heard a knock on the treehouse trapdoor.

"Come in," Gordie called. His stomach fluttered wildly as the door opened and Chris clambered in, bottle clinking in his arms. For some odd reason, Gordie had been feeling peculiar whenever Chris came to visit lately. He couldn't quite pinpoint what the feeling was, but he knew he had a strange sense of foreboding about today. He pushed it aside, however, and watched silently as Chris closed the trapdoor behind him.

"It was a real pain gettin' this one, but it's gonna taste better than the last time. You got the Coke?"

Gordie nodded, producing two bottles of Coca-Cola and a bottle opener. "Are we gonna mix 'em?" he asked.

Chris nodded, responding, "Yeah, it'll help with the taste; plus, this is nicer stuff, anyway. We gotta really celebrate tonight. Tomorrow, we're high schoolers!"

Gordie smiled, though inside the thought of starting a new school was nerve wracking. Nodding in response, he popped one of the bottles open and handed it to Chris. His stomach fluttered again as their hands brushed each other lightly.

Chris opened the whiskey bottle and grabbed a cup from a nearby windowsill. Filling it halfway, he took the Coke and poured that in as well, mixing the liquids. He took a sip and grinned. "Not bad," he remarked, handing the cup to his best friend. "I'm not gonna drink as much tonight as last time. I don't wanna hurl again."

Gordie received the cup and took a tentative sip, swallowing it easily. It tasted _much _better than last time. Remembering how good he had felt, Gordie grinned and quickly gulped down the rest of the glass.

Chris exclaimed, "Jeez Gordie, save some for me!"

Already feeling looser, perhaps partially from placebo, Gordie laughed in response. "You're the one holding the bottle."

Chris grinned. "Hand me that cup, ya animal."

The two drank heartily as the sun slowly set in the distance until eventually, when there was no light left in the sky save the moon, the Coke ran out and the whiskey was nearly gone. Gordie had drank significantly more than his best friend, and currently held the bottle in his possession. Talking currently about who would win in a fight, Superman or Batman, Gordie took another large swig of the bottle and accidentally finished it all.

"Hey, you ass, you drank it all," Chris protested.

Gordie slumped onto his stomach, resting the side of his face on the treehouse floor. "Ugh… Chris…"

Chris sighed, though more out of concern than upsettedness. "Oh, Gordo, don't tell me you're gonna throw up?"

Without warning, Gordie shot up to his knees and leaned over, vomiting whiskey and Cola. He had indeed thrown up, but unlike Chris had not made it to a window.

Chris grimaced. "You're lucky I have a strong stomach, Gordo…" He climbed over to the swaying and sick boy and gently grabbed his shoulders, adding, "Come on you, we're gonna sleep outside now."

Gordie groaned in agreement, feeling slightly better having purged the strong liquid from his body. With Chris' assistance, he shakily got to his feet. Very slowly, the two boys made their way down the ladder and onto the ground outside; Gordie immediately flopped loosely on his back in the grass and sighed as the world spun around him.

His best friend chuckled, "I'm gonna go get some blankets for us." He climbed back up to the treehouse, easier and quicker without Gordie in his arms, and disappeared inside.

Gordie allowed his mind to wander a bit as he stared up at the swirling night sky. After a few long moments of contemplation, he thought out loud, "Gosh, the sky sure is pretty tonight."

"Yeah, it is, isn't it?"

He glanced up and focused his eyes on the large bundle of blankets and pillows that had appeared before him. "Oh, Chris," he slurred, "I didn't hear you come down."

Chris smiled and began setting up a makeshift bed on the grass just under the tree. One blanket went down, then some pillows, then another blanket. "Come on, Gordie," Chris whispered gently as he finished his task. "Let's get some rest."

Gordie simply rolled over until he was on top of the makeshift bedding, again laying on his back. "The stars are so beautiful…"

Chris laughed softly as he took his shirt off and climbed into the bed a few feet from his best friend. "And you're so drunk," he responded. Sighing, he placed both arms behind his head and reflected on the stars as well. "It _is _a nice view to sleep under, though," he commented. "Gotta admit, Gordie, we're the lucky ones."

Gordie frowned, closing his eyes. "How d'ya figure?"

Chris smiled faintly. "We got each other."

Gordie's heart fluttered once more, and his stomach sank rapidly into his gut. Something suddenly clicked in his alcohol induced state, and he quickly snorted a response, "Are you sure _I'm _the gay one?"

His best friend frowned. "Don't ruin a good moment."

Somewhat shameful, Gordie blushed and murmured, "Sorry…"

Silence fell between the two boys, but under the covers Gordie could feel his heart hammering. He finally realized the extent of these weird feelings and physical reactions he had been having, and could explain them in words. He had a crush on Chris. It made sense, but it still shocked him quite a bit.

Somewhat shakily, Gordie whispered, "Goodnight, Chris."

Chris seemed not to notice the tone of his best friend's voice and simply responded, "Goodnight, Gordo."

The two boys drifted off to sleep quickly, alcohol helping considerably. In his final moments of consciousness, Gordie made a simple pact with himself: he decided right then that he would _never _tell Chris of how he felt. He knew their friendship depended on it.


	3. Chapter 3

**"Every Storm Runs Out of Rain"**

_By MaturePopcorn_

**Description: **Gordie begins having strange thoughts and feelings for his best friend, and can't even express the fundamental basics of his life to anyone. 1959 Oregon isn't the most accepting place for someone like him...

**WARNING: M for alcohol/drug use, mild sexual themes in future chapters, violence, and explicit homophobia.**

**_Author's note:_** Hi, it's me, local idiot. I hope you enjoy this story because it's been absolute fuckery transferring it to my computer. Don't write fanfiction in a notebook unless you have to; aesthetics be damned.

Much love,

~Hannah~

Chapter 003

Two and a half months had passed since Chris and Gordie's high school kick-off, and it was now mid-November in Castle Rock, Oregon. Today was Monday, and tomorrow was the last day of school before a five-day Thanksgiving break. As the final bell rang out across campus, all the rowdy high schoolers began rushing out of their homes or cars, and Chris began eagerly looking for Gordie.

After a few minutes of searching, Chris realized Gordie would likely have hung back in his last class. Since his last period was English, Gordie would sometimes stay hours after school if the two of them didn't already have plans. Chris rounded the hallway and turned abruptly to room 8, where he found Gordie alone.

"Hey, Gordo," Chris said, startling his friend. "Where's the teacher?"

As Gordie looked up at his friend, he closed his notebook and responded, "Oh, hey Chris. He's in a meeting."

Chris raised his eyebrows. "And he trusted you with his room?"

"Yeah."

"Oh."

A few moments passed in silence as Gordie began writing in his notebook one more. Then suddenly, Chris exclaimed, "Oh, Gordie!" Gordie jumped in his seat, and Chris continued, "Why are you so jumpy today? Anyway, c'mon, we gotta go to the treehouse. I got something to tell ya!"

Gordie furrowed his brow as he closed his notebook once more. "Why can't you tell me now?"

Chris grinned as wide as he could and simply responded, "Suspense."

Gordie rolled his eyes, smiling softly. He stood up and began packing his things, chuckling, "Alright, let's go." Chris nodded, and the two set out for the mile and a half walk to the treehouse.

The pair reached their destination just as the sun was beginning to dip behind the trees. The days were growing shorter and shorter, and even at 3:30pm it was nearly sunset. They climbed the ladder, Chris before Gordie, and entered the cluttered space, trying desperately to warm up now that they were out of the wind. Snow would be on the way soon.

"Alright, Chris," Gordie said, shivering only slightly. "What did you want to tell me?" Chris grinned and rubbed his hands together, giggling somewhat maniacally. Gordie shot him a look. "You look like a cartoon bank robber."

Chris cheered as if releasing pent up energy. "Alright, Gordie, I'll tell ya. Ah jeez, I got a girlfriend!"

Gordie no longer felt cold. A wave of jealousy washed over him, and he had to force himself to remain calm as he felt a cocktail of depression, anger and anxiety. On some level, he felt happy and excited for Chris. It was a small piece of him, and it was vastly overshadowed by his negative emotions, but it was definitely there. Another small part of him felt fearful; fearful that he'd lose his best friend so some girl. He also felt irrationally anxious Chris would discover his true feelings. In passing, he thought, _"I shouldn't leave my diary so out in the open…"_

"Well?" Chris asked, snapping Gordie out of his head and back to reality. "Whaddya think?"

Gulping, Gordie gathered his thoughts quickly. "Well, uh… What's her name?" he asked, somewhat sheepishly.

Chris grinned, swooning softly. "Cheryl. She's a sophomore and ugh, she's just the best. You just gotta meet her, Gordie."

Gordie blinked as he remembered a previous conversation they had had. "Oh, sure, I think you mentioned her before."

Chris nodded. "I've liked her for a while now."

"Well," Gordie asked, "What do you like about her?"

Chris sighed and closed his eyes. "She's sweet and pretty, and she's got this killer body; huge tits, wide hips…" As Chris went on about Cheryl, Gordie felt his blood begin to boil. Why did Chris have to go and get a girlfriend? He had only seen this Cheryl girl a few times in the halls of school, but already he hated her guts.

"…Yeah, and our lockers are right next to each other, so that's sweet." Chris paused, noticing that Gordie's thoughts were elsewhere. "Hello? Earth to Gordo?" He waved his hand in front of his friend's face, snapping Gordie back to reality. "Ah, jeez," Chris added, "This is probably really boring for you, sorry. You wanna smoke?"

Gordie laughed awkwardly. "Sure," he replied as Chris reached into his pocket. "Sorry I can't relate to any of that."

Chris shrugged as he handed Gordie a cigarette. "It isn't your fault you're a fag." As he lit his own smoke, he commented, "You don't really look or act like a fag though."

Frowning, Gordie exhaled a puff of smoke. "How's a fag supposed to act?"

"Y'know…" Chris started, "All girly and prissy, and-"

"That isn't like me at all!" Gordie exclaimed, frowning deeper.

Chris looked genuinely puzzled as he took another drag. "Are you sure you like guys?"

"Whaddya mean?"

"Well, what do ya like about 'em? I'm a guy, and you don't like me," Chris commented coolly.

Gordie could feel his heart suddenly hammering in his chest. _"If only you knew,"_ he thought solemnly. Gordie leaned back and responded as coolly as he could, "I don't know, really. I don't think too deeply about these things." As he put out his cigarette and flicked it out the window, he continued, "I guess it's just instinct, if that makes sense."

Chris laughed back, "Instinct? You sound like an animal."

Gordie shrugged. "Aren't we all?"

Chris thought for a moment. Then, switching tactics, he asked, "Okay, do you have a crush on anyone?"

Gordie panicked. He'd been afraid of that question since the beginning, and he knew he'd have to bullshit his way through. He lied through his teeth, answering, "Uh, yeah, sure. Kinda. This junior guy, Robert-"

"Wilson?!" Chris interrupted. "Oh, buddy, bad idea. He'd kill you if he found out."

Gordie swallowed, thankful his friend had taken the bait but a little guilty for having lied. "Y-yeah, definitely. I mean, it's just a crush, I wouldn't tell anyone else."

Chris nodded, "Good." Then, seeming to forget his previous statements, continued, "Now, about Cheryl. My _girlfriend…_"

The pair talked for about an hour before Chris decided he best walk home. It was getting dark, and he wanted to get home before his dad. Chris seemed head over heels for his new relationship, and despite enjoying his time with his friend was thankful to have a moment alone. He needed to process the swirling thoughts in his head.

The two said goodbye, and Gordie made a beeline for his house. He rushed up to his room and immediately flopped onto his bed. As he lay there silently, tears welled up in his eyes; he wasn't totally sure where they were even coming from. As he started to cry freely, allowing the salty water to flow from his eyes, all Gordie could think was, _"Why me?"_

* * *

"Gordie, I want you to meet Cheryl."

Gordie looked up from his lunch to see the source of the voice before him, who continued on, "Jeez, you okay buddy? You look rough."

It was now Tuesday, the last day of school before Thanksgiving break. Gordie had hardly been able to sleep the night before and was convinced he was literally out of tears to cry. He blinked, shaking his head softly as he responded, "Uh, yeah, I'm fine." The full implications of Chris' request set in, and he calmed his emotions as he added, "Where's Cheryl?"

"Oh, she's over here, c'mon."

Gordie stood up, abandoning his lunch, and followed Chris across the cafeteria towards a table with all girls. As they neared the table, a couple girls glanced up and began giggling at the pair of boys.

"Gordie," Chris began as they approached the table, attracting the girls' attention. "This is Cheryl."

A short brunette with large green eyes smiled warmly at the pair, and Gordie could feel himself growing hot with jealousy as he stammered out, "N-nice to meet you."

A taller blonde girl giggled. Gordie realized his face must be bright red, though realizing this fact only made him blush harder. Gordie assumed they would all just think him awestruck to be in the presence of girls, and as far as he was concerned, they could go on thinking that. It was preferable to the truth.

Cheryl spoke softly, laughing slightly as she said, "Hello, Gordie. It's nice to meet you; Chris has talked about you an awful lot." Gordie blinked in surprise. Chris had talked about him? What had he said? Cheryl continued sweetly as though reading his mind, "Oh, all good things, don't worry. You two sure can handle your liquor for freshman." He assumed Chris must have left out the parts where they threw up twice.

It was Chris' turn to blush softly. "Ah jeez, babe, you're embarrassing me."

_"Babe."_ Gordie felt weak with anger. Why did everything have to be so difficult? _"Ugh,"_ was all he could think. _"Fuck this."_

Another girl at the table, the tall blonde with brown eyes, spoke up then. "If they can handle their liquor so well, they should come over to my house this Saturday. My parents will be out of town, and I'll be hosting. Of course, Cheryl can bring her boyfriend, and you, Gordie… If you'd want." The girl blinked softly at Gordie a few times, and he felt a nudge from Chris.

Without thinking, Gordie found himself nodding in response. "Yeah, sure, that'd be great."

The girl giggled and nodded at him. "See you there," she said with a wink. Cheryl kissed Chris on the cheek, and the two boys walked back to their original table. Gordie was so shocked by what had just happened that he didn't even register the kiss Chris had received. Who was that girl?

He was suddenly brought back to reality by Chris exclaiming, "Jeez! Some guys have all the luck. And you don't even want her!"

Gordie exclaimed back, "Keep your voice down!"

Raising a hand dismissively, Chris shot back, "Nobody's paying attention to us. Besides, don't you know who that was?" Without pausing to allow Gordie to answer, Chris stated, "That was Roxanne Greenwood! She's a junior, and it looks like she's got a crush on you."

Gordie shrugged. He'd never heard that name before, but it seemed she was popular enough. "Well, I don't know what I'm supposed to do about all that," Gordie lamented. "If she's coming on to me, what should I do? I'm not attracted to her."

"I still don't see how not," Chris answered back plainly, "But I dunno. Just fake it."

"Fake it?"

"Yeah," Chris continued, "Just act like you're into it and she'll get off; then you'll be the most popular freshman in the state!"

As he sat back down to his half-eaten lunch, Gordie got a sense of ominous foreboding. Saturday would be eventful for certain, but he wasn't entirely pleased about the situation…

* * *

By Saturday afternoon, Gordie was completely tore up inside with anxiety. Chris was supposed to have met him at the treehouse over an hour ago, and he still wasn't there yet. He was beginning to wonder if something had happened.

Thanksgiving had come and gone relatively uneventfully, and Gordie had done alright seeing his extended family. Nearly everyone had asked if he had a girlfriend yet and he was so emotionally drained from having to lie so much. He was thankful he at least had Roxanne's name as a "potential future girlfriend" to placate his relatives, but he knew it was all fake. Besides, she herself seemed too fake for him anyway.

As Gordie paced in front of the treehouse, he considered going back to his house and calling Chris' house, but thought better of it. He didn't want to risk talking to Chris' father.

Finally, nearly an hour and a half after their set time, two figures appeared far back on the road, coming nearer with each passing second. "Hey, Gordie!" Chris called out. "I'm sorry we're late, but I brought Cheryl." Gordie could feel his stomach drop as the pair reached the treehouse, finally ready for the party. Chris continued, "Sorry again we're late, we were, ah…" He blushed, fidgeting as he finished, "making out."

Cheryl giggled, and Gordie drew a deep breath through his nose. Hoping neither could see his emotion spilling out, he muttered, "Oh, uh…" He wasn't entirely sure how to respond.

He was interrupted by Cheryl before he could trip over his tongue, however. "Oh, could I ever see inside the treehouse? Chris has talked so much of it."

For some reason, the thought of any girl and _especially _Chris' girlfriend being inside his treehouse was too much to handle. Plus, there were still a couple of Playboys laying around up there. Thinking fast, Gordie answered, "Ah, maybe next time. We're already an hour behind, and I'd like to get to the party."

Cheryl giggled, "Excited to see Roxanne, I suppose?"

_"Excited to drink, more like…"_ Gordie thought moodily. _"This girl sure does giggle a lot."_

Chris nodded in Gordie's place. "Yeah, why don't we head out? I'd like to grab a drink right about now."

Cheryl smiled. "Alright! I'll lead the way, then."

The three set out, Chris and Cheryl as a pair in front and Gordie trailing behind a ways, lost in thought. He indulged in his fantasies, allowing them to roam freely through his mind. Fantastically impossible scenarios where Chris and Cheryl broke up, where Chris liked him back, where he and Chris…

"Gordie."

Gordie was snapped back to the present by the sound of Chris' voice. "Huh?" was all he could respond.

Chris snorted, nudging Gordie's shoulder playfully. "I said, we're here," he repeated. Cheryl, standing about 50 feet away, knocked on the door of a large yellow house, and the two boys began walking towards her. Chris swooned, asking somewhat rhetorically, "Isn't she just the best?"

Gordie grimaced internally. "Uh, yeah."

As the boys reached the house and rejoined Cheryl, the door swung open. Roxanne's face lit up from the doorway and she hugged her friend tightly. "Oh, Cheryl, hello! I've missed you!"

_"Missed her?"_ Gordie thought, genuinely puzzled. _"School was four days ago…"_

Roxanne turned to look at Chris before, skipping over him with a faint smile, turned her attention to Gordie. "Oh, I'm so glad you came! Come in, let's grab something to drink. There's food, and music…" As Roxanne began to talk about everything and anything, Gordie tuned out for the sake of his sanity. He sighed in relief when he saw the tall bottle of Jack Daniels on the table, next to an even taller bottle of vodka. He tuned back in as Roxanne was still going on, "Oh and there's beer in the fridge. I'm going to turn the music up, there's so many people now!"

Gordie looked around; there were indeed quite a few people, most of them upperclassmen he didn't recognize. He nodded as Roxanne walked away into the kitchen, calling, "Don't go far…!"

Grabbing a glass, Gordie filled it nearly full with whiskey and took a large sip. In the distance, _Rock Around the Clock_ grew louder and a few people began dancing in place. Sudden realization set in for him; he was at an actual high school party, and he was nervous. He hardly knew anyone, and the hostess was coming on to him!

Gordie quickly gulped down the rest of his whiskey and poured a small amount of vodka. He didn't want to get too drunk too fast, but he wanted to try the new alcohol. He glanced around for Chris, but his best friend and Cheryl were both nowhere to be seen. _"Probably making out again…"_ he thought sulkily. Making his way to the kitchen, Gordie drank the vodka and immediately decided he hated it. It was too bitter for his liking.

Knowing she was in the kitchen still, Gordie wasn't thrilled about seeing Roxanne, and would have preferred to avoid her as much as possible, but he wanted to try a beer. He placed the empty glass on the counter as the effects began to sink into him. _The Monotones _blared in his ears from behind.

As he opened the fridge door and grabbed a bottle, he felt a presence uncomfortably close behind him. Gordie closed the refrigerator door and turned around to see Roxanne herself mere inches from him. The alcohol numbing his reactions, he simply sighed, "Oh, hey Roxanne."

"Hey, Gordie…" Something was different about her voice, but Gordie couldn't quite pinpoint what it was. "Here," she offered, "let me get that for you. Roxanne produced a bottle opener from her bra.

_"Gross."_

Roxanne opened Gordie's beer, and he took a sip. It was lighter than the whiskey and was easier to swallow, especially with the alcohol already affecting him so greatly. He gulped down a bit more until he was over halfway through.

"Oooh, you really _can _handle your liquor," Roxanne cooed. Something about her made Gordie extremely uncomfortable. She brushed his am gently and wondered out loud, "I wonder what else you can handle…"

Gordie stumbled over his own words, stuttering, "W-what-"

"Y'know," Roxanne continued, "My room is just down the hall. We could… Disappear for a while…"

Gordie gritted his teeth through closed lips. Chris' voice telling him to "fake it" rang out in his foggy head, and he felt trapped. Finally, he stammered, "S-sure…"

Roxanne giggled, picking up on Gordie's uncomfortableness. "There's no need to feel nervous. I don't bite." She grabbed his free hand and half dragged him towards the hallway. Winking, she added, "Unless you'd want me to."

Gordie quickly chugged the rest of his beer as he was led down the hall and into a bedroom across from a bathroom. He haphazardly threw the empty bottle on the floor and Roxanne gasped loudly. Startled, he blinked at Roxanne. "Oh, sorry, I wasn't thinking. I'm so used to the treehouse-"

"Cheryl!" Roxanne suddenly exclaimed. "What are you doing?!"

Gordie turned his head away from the hostess and towards her bed. On it lay Cheryl, along with some guy Gordie had never seen before; his shirt was off, and her skirt had been pulled down a few inches. Cheryl, clearly drunk, slurred at the pair, "Uh, making out?"

Gordie raised his eyebrows. This may have been what he wanted, but not like this; Chris would be devastated. Unable to control his inhibitions, he shook his head softly and whispered, "You bitch."

Cheryl laughed coolly, the warmth gone from her voice. She stood from the bed and pulled her skirt back up, responding, "Yeah, like you matter. Freshmen are all the same. John here," she slurred, gesturing to the uncomfortable looking guy, "is a senior."

Gordie began, "Who gave you the right-" but was quickly cut off by the guy, whose name was apparently John.

"Babe," he said, sounding sober. "Why don't we just take this back to my place?" He looked warily at Roxanne and Gordie, adding, "There's less people." Without another word, Cheryl obliged, leaving the room with John close behind carrying his shirt in his hand.

Roxanne sighed as the door closed behind them. "I'm so sorry about all that… I don't know what gets into her when she drinks."

Gordie narrowed his eyes. "Yeah… I think I'm gonna get another drink." He didn't feel like being alone with this girl for another second, and he felt altogether strange. Perhaps another beer would fix that.

Shooting him a pouty face, Roxanne replied to Gordie, "Aw, don't be like that! Come on," she went on, unbuttoning her blouse. "We can still have fun."

Feeling even weirder now as bare skin came into view, Gordie stammered, "Yeah, I-I think I'd better check on Chris."

"Oh, he'll be fine," Roxanne cooed, sliding her unbuttoned blouse off her arms. It took everything in Gordie not to bolt out the door as she stood before him in a lacy bra, barely covering her sizable breasts.

"Really, I-"

Gordie's objections were cut short this time as Roxanne suddenly pressed her lips against his. Gordie had never kissed anyone before, and he was surprised at how soft they were.

_"Are Chris' this soft?"_

Gordie started to pull away, but Roxanne moved closer, slipping her tongue into his mouth. _"Ugh!"_ he thought, eyes squinted open as Roxanne grabbed his hand and slid it under her bra. _"This… This is gross."_

As Gordie felt Roxanne up against his will, she used her other hand to lightly brush his inner thigh. He grimaced, shivering slightly as she slid her hand up to his…

"Hey…" Roxanne whispered as she pulled away from the kiss. "What gives?"

Gordie's eye twitched. "Please let go."

Roxanne frowned, genuinely puzzled. The tiniest glint of anger flashed in her eyes as she stated, "All the other guys I've been with were rock hard by now."

_"Oh, you've been with a lot of guys, then?"_ Gordie thought sarcastically. He sighed, "Yeah, I don't really know how to say this, but…" He trailed off, unsure. Part of him wondered if he should just come clean, about the _real _truth, but even in his highly intoxicated state he thought better of it. "Uhhh…" he trailed off again, not sure of what to say.

Roxanne finished his sentence for him, angrily shooting, "What, am I not your type or something? Am I not pretty enough for you?"

"Not really, no."

Silence fell between them, save the distantly soft booming of Buddy Holly. Roxanne Greenwood was arguably one of the prettiest girls at school, and had more than likely never been rejected before. She breathed shakily and was about to respond to Gordie when a sudden commotion was heard just outside the door.

Without any warning, Chris burst through the door and walked in unabashedly. Really, he stumbled in. Turning to Gordie, he completely ignored Roxanne and the implications of his interruption and slurred heavily, "We gotta go, Gordie. Treehouse."

Roxanne huffed, "We were in the middle of something."

Gordie raised an eyebrow and laughed coolly, "Were we really though? I'm pretty sure this conversation is over." Under normal circumstances, he would never talk to anyone this way; he was seriously beginning to enjoy the newfound courage alcohol seemed to give him.

He stood from the bed, walking around to where Chris was swaying in place. Upon closer inspection, his eyes appeared somewhat bloodshot and he absolutely reeked of booze. He was beyond drunk; he probably wouldn't even remember this very moment tomorrow.

_"Shit… That can't be good."_

Gordie sighed. "Come on, Chris," he began. "Let's-"

"You," Chris slurred, stumbling backwards as he pointed at Roxanne. "Fuck you."

"Fuck _me_?"

"Fuck _you_, ya _bitch_."

Gordie shut his eyes tight and willed himself to simply disappear. Attempting to de-escalate the situation, he began, "Chris, can we just-"

Ignoring him, Chris continued his verbal assault on the shirtless girl. "You _knew _Cheryl had that John guy and y'all played me for a damn _fool._"

Roxanne fumed. "I didn't know anything, you pathetic little shit."

Chris snorted, "Pathetic? You're the pathetic one. You're nothing but Castle Rock's local whore, and y-"

"Chris." Gordie firmly planted his foot down as Roxanne inhaled sharply. "It. Is. Time. To. Go," he demanded, punctuating each word.

Chris whipped his head to face his friend, sneering as he did so. "And what about you?"

"Me?" Gordie exclaimed, thoroughly surprised and a little anxious.

"Yeah, you," Chris slurred. "You're the one who fucked the whore."

"Chris, what on Earth has gotten into you? We didn't do anything close to that!" He tried shooting Chris a knowing glance as Roxanne snorted in sarcastic humor, but all subtlety was lost on him in his drunken state. After a moment, Gordie groaned, "She came onto me and I told her the truth."

Alarmed, Chris' anger immediately dissipated as he stammered, "Y-you-"

"I told her she wasn't my type," Gordie quickly interjected, desperate to keep his secret safe especially now that Roxanne hated him.

Chris blinked a few times before, realization dawning on his face, he whispered, "Ooohhh…"

"Come on, already," Gordie mumbled, grabbing his friend's arm and opening the door. Roxanne, not bothering to put her blouse back on, attempted to follow them out into the hallway.

The three of them were met by a crowd of stunned faces flooding both the living room and hallway. The music was all that could be heard over the dozens of bodies; no one said a word. Roxanne growled, "What's going on? Was everyone eavesdropping? M-mind your business!"

Gordie and Chris pushed their way through the throngs of people as murmuring began. Neither of them were particularly popular at school, and Gordie figured this wouldn't exactly boost their social status. They exited the house just as Chris pulled his arm away from Gordie's grip and, clutching his stomach, mumbled, "I don't feel so good…"

"Christ, not this again. Every time we drink, one of us-"

Gordie was cut off as Chris leaned forward and belched loudly. He quickly shot up to a standing position and exclaimed, "Oh, that feels much better!"

Gordie shook his head, chuckling, "Attractive."

"Don't be makin' passes at me now, Gordo," Chris teased playfully.

Gordie simply smiled in response. He slung his arm over Chris and helped guide his friend down the street in the direction of the treehouse. As they walked, Chris leaning into Gordie, the somewhat more sober boy wished he had snagged at least a few more beers before they left.

Suddenly, Chris began singing out of nowhere. "Have gun will travel, reads the card of a man…!" Gordie chuckled, and Chris continued, "A knight without armor in a savage land..." slurring each off-key vocal.

"Hey," Gordie said, "Keep your voice down a bit, it's dark."

"Remember when we used to sing that?" Chris said, ignoring his friend.

Gordie smiled. "Yes, I do. It's been a while."

Chris stopped walking suddenly, turning to Gordie. "Why don't we sing it again?"

Gordie looked at Chris with nothing but love in his eyes and had to near physically restrain himself from kissing him right then and there. Instead, after a pause, all he whispered was, "Okay."

The pair began singing together once more, and they didn't stop until they reached the treehouse. Gordie was a little concerned about the noise they were making, but didn't want to stop nonetheless. When they finally reached their destination, neither boy bothered setting up a bed; they simply fell asleep in their clothing. Gordie slept peacefully for the first time in nearly a week, thankful he had Chris to himself once more.


End file.
